The Wretched
by Kichi
Summary: Loki is violently attacked and sexually assaulted. The aftermath is not pretty, and neither is his revenge


TITLE: The Wretched

AUTHOR: RedMetalWitch (AO3), Kichi ( )

SUBJECT: Loki is attacked and sexually assaulted and seeks revenge.

WARNINGS: GRAPHIC NON/CON, anxiety issues, panic attacks, graphic violence.

NOTES: Loki is fairly young in this fic. He would be about 20 if he was human. I don't know if they grow to adulthood as we do, then just stop aging for thousands of years or what. And for someone who loves Loki so much you would think I wouldn't want to see terrible things happen to him. But at least I don't kill him constantly (Marvel). At least I try to make it better at the end.

SPECIAL THANKS to everyone who has given me fic reccomendations! You guys are the best!

The air was thick and stifling. The sun blazed overhead. The sky was clear and blue, it was the height of summer. People laughed and frolicked in the sunshine.

Loki hated it.

He sat in the shade of a huge Yew tree and watched his brother and his brother's friends wrestle and trade blows with their practice swords for a moment before returning to the book in his lap. Even in the shade he was uncomfortable, but nothing could entice him to leave it, except a cool pond maybe.

He was old enough to know better, he'd learned his lesson long ago. The sun burned him if he stayed in it too long. His skin had turned a fiery red from what he'd thought was minimal exposure several times. The burns were so terrible his family could feel the heat radiating off his skin. A few times the heat had made him collapse, unconscious. The healers had referred to the incidents as: "Sun burn, sun poisoning, and heat stroke." And he had been warned each time to stay in the shade.

But sometimes it was hard. Especially when he was the only one who seemed to be affected. And he was the only one sitting by himself. And he was the only one reading a book he'd read five times already while everyone else laughed and had fun.

He stood up, leaving the book under the tree. He decided to walk into the forest that he sat at the edge of and find his favorite place to swim. His clothes were clinging to him and he knew he needed to cool down before his stomach started twisting with nausea.

The forest was even more stifling. The leaves blocked the paltry breeze and he was soon sweating. He followed a stream that eventually became a waterfall with a clear pool at the bottom. His armor and clothing disappeared and he dove in the water. He broke the surface with a groan of pleasure. The water was perfect and he went back under. You could see every tiny fish and pebble in the little pool, but it was much deeper than it looked. He swam until the sun began to slip down toward the horizon. He didn't want to leave, but he didn't want to get attacked the whole way home by the disgusting, flying, blood-sucking insects that came out at night.

His clothing rematerialized without his armor, he couldn't bear the thought of wearing it and sweating the whole way home, that would draw the mygg to him even faster. And he despised the itchy welts that their bites left behind. He followed the creek for only a half mile when he heard a thud behind him. Before he could turn, a blow to the back of the head shattered all thought and he collapsed in the dirt and dead leaves that littered the forest floor.

He awoke in agony. His head was throbbing in time with his heartbeat and each throb was pure misery. He felt his clothing suddenly being torn and wrenched off by more than one set of hands. He tried to kick but he could barely find the strength and soon he was naked and pinned to the forest floor by two men. Night had fallen and his vision was blurred as his head spun and pounded. He could barely make out their faces. He felt like he was going to be sick. Without warning, they flipped him over so he was face down, two hands clamped down on his left wrist and the back of his neck. He tried to pry the hand off his neck but the other man sat on his back, forcing the air from his lungs. He grabbed Loki's free arm and wrenched it down to the ground and the one holding his head and wrist put his knee on Loki's right wrist and once the other man released Loki's arm he let all his weight rest on his knee. Loki felt his bones grind together and he gasped, sucking in dirt. He choked and gagged, spitting mud.

"Let me go!" he shrieked the moment he had breath to speak. They ignored him. The man that sat on his back began undoing his belt and Loki froze in terror for a moment, then he began to kick wildly. "No! You can't do this to me, do you know who the hell I am?!" he snarled.

"We know all about you, pretty little prince." the man behind him hissed and yanked his hips up until he was on his knees. Loki felt a fist ram into his side until his ribs cracked. The pain left him unable to breathe. His vision was going gray around the edges. The beast behind him, the one who had cracked his ribs laughed quietly as Loki gasped and choked. He began to force his cock into him and a strangled scream tore from Loki's throat.

The pain was like nothing he'd ever felt before. The man behind him forced his knees together with his own until he couldn't even continue his futile kicking. He was trapped. The man grunted as he brutally impaled Loki and his thrusts began to pick up pace until Loki was wailing in agony. The hand on his neck suddenly wrenched his head back by his hair and slammed the side of his head into the unforgiving ground until he lay stunned and silent.

The man behind him continued to rape him throughout until he finally came, the sounds of the vile man's pleasure and his spinning head made Loki's stomach sour until he gagged. He felt the man in front of him release him and the man behind him pull out. He collapsed in a heap, but as soon as they changed places and touched him again he groaned and tried to kick and punch. They each hit him with their heavy fists until he cried out in agony. They pinned him down the same way and a heavy knee came down on the same wrist, and this time he felt a pop and he knew one of the bones in his wrist had broken. He groaned and felt his eyes burning. He squeezed his eyes shut and refused to cry. He couldn't allow them to see him weep. When the other man dragged his hips up he felt tears escaping anyway and grit his teeth. Another agonized cry tore from his throat as he was impaled again, and this one was hurting him even worse. He gripped Loki's hips with punishing force, digging ragged nails into his already-bruised flesh. His ass was burning unbearably with each violent thrust and he prayed for it to end. He wanted to go home. He wanted to hide in his room and never come out again.

 _'What if they kill me?'_ he wondered. He didn't want to die, but he wasn't sure how he was going to live after this humiliation. A few more burning thrusts and the man behind him moaned loudly, making Loki shudder in disgust and loathing. He pulled out and stood quickly, buckling his belt again. Loki lashed out in fury despite the pain it caused him, but the man avoided him easily and kicked Loki so hard in the stomach he couldn't breathe again. The other man let him go and he curled on his side, gasping and choking.

He heard their footsteps and laughter fade away but it was a quarter hour before he was able to get to his knees again. He slowly crawled towards the creek and scrubbed the dirt from his hands and face. His wrist was broken, it had to be, he realized; the smallest of motions shot pain all the way up his arm. He cradled it against his chest with his left hand. He slowly got to his feet. His thighs were covered with blood. He couldn't look again after the brief glance down. His stomach was churning with nausea and he was still filthy and sweating. His clothing had been torn to shreds. He conjured a new outfit that was soft and loose and completely black. And was dismayed by the fire in his skull after the simple spell. He stood there wobbling unsteadily, gasping for breath. He hoped to get to his room unnoticed. His seidr was weakend to almost nothing. He barely had the strength to walk, but he had to. He had to get home. All he wanted was to lie in his bed until he healed.

He began to choke again and suddenly vomit spewed out of his mouth. He shuddered violently and stumbled forward. Each step sent a jolt of pain through him. It wasn't long before he stumbled and fell. He bit back a whimper as fire shot up his spine. He shivered and groaned as he knelt in the dirt.

It took him several more minutes to drag himself to his feet again, the pain in his skull and throughout his battered body made him dizzy and his steps were unsteady, but he made it to the edge of the forest and toward the gardens surrounding his home. He prayed the southwest entrance was open. But when got closer he saw lights on the lawn where there were many tables and chairs set up at all times. Many liked to dine there day and night. He had hoped the still oppressive heat would have discouraged any from dallying out of doors, but now his hopes were dashed and he had to cover his mouth to stifle a sob. The lawn was filled with courtiers having a wonderful time, but their words were muffled and he wasn't sure why. He heard a faint ringing as well. He stayed in the darkness of the forest, and clung to the nearest tree until his knees buckled and he collapsed.

He had to use magic or he'd never make it to his room without running into someone. But he had never phased to a place he was unable to see. The thought of being trapped in a wall frightened him. But the alternative suddenly scared him far more. He had to try.

He drew several deep breaths, trying to calm himself enough to concentrate. He pictured his bed, soft and inviting, and closed his eyes. He felt a strong pull, a brief sense of floating, then falling and he opened his eyes with a gasp, his head pounding. He knelt on his bed. The room was dark. He eased himself down onto the soft blankets and a sob tore from his throat. His body shook convulsively as he wept. He had never been more grateful to be safe in his bed. But the horror of his attack overwhelmed him.

The fact that he'd just accomplished a magic he'd been afraid to for months meant nothing. That he did it with only a small spark of seidr was insignificant. Everyone had been right about him after all. He was too weak to defend himself, and two depraved bastards had nearly bashed his brains out, it was a crude but effective way to subdue someone who used magic. He was still dizzy. His vision was blurred, and not only from the tears he could not seem to stop. He was still terrified, even in his room. His wrist was purple and he couldn't move it, his neck ached, his head was pounding. Every breath was torture, he was sure his ribs were cracked. His hips hurt, his ass hurt, his knees and back hurt. His heart felt like it was being crushed in someone's fist. It was agony to drag half of his blankets over himself and huddle underneath. He hid beneath the blankets and tried not to weep.

When he next opened his eyes, the sun was out. He felt horrible. His body was nothing but pain and heat. Even his hair was damp and clung to his face. He barely had strength to roll onto his side. His mouth and throat were so dry he began to cough harshly. And he was still dizzy. He lay there panting, his eyes closed, trying not to vomit as his stomach churned painfully.

He heard a knock at the door and froze in terror.

"Brother are you here?" Loki huddled under the blankets. Perhaps if he was quiet, Thor would assume he was elsewhere. He only prayed his door was locked. He heard a click as his door opened and cursed silently. "Loki? Wake up brother! I cannot believe you're still in bed."

"Go away." Loki said, his voice a harsh croak.

"Are you ill? You sound terrible?"

"Thor-" Loki began, but the quaver in his voice stopped him. He took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself. "Please leave."

"What? Why? You are worrying me, what is wrong?"

"Nothing. Just go." he began to cough again, his throat burning.

"No, you're ill! I must bring Eir to you."

"No!" Loki yelled, still huddled under the covers. Thor could see him begin to shake.

"I'm going to get her."

"Thor!" Loki howled in fury. "I said no!" He shoved the blankes away from his face and propped up on his elbow with a grimace of pain. Thor stared at him in shock, then his eyes narrowed. He leaned closer noticing with alarm as Loki recoiled, his eyes wide with fright.

"Loki. Your face is bruised. Dried blood is in your hair. Were you in a fight?" Loki looked down unable to see his brother's concern any more.

"Please Thor, just let me sleep and I'll be fine."

"Loki!" Thor gasped, and he froze in dread. "Your wrist! It looks broken!"

"Thor-" his voice had a hysterical edge to it that Thor did not like.

"I'm getting Eir, I cannot allow you to suffer these injuries!" he ran for the door and Loki said nothing. Once the door slammed shut he locked the doors with a spell. His head immediately began to throb and he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. He pulled his blankets over his head to block out the light and moaned in torment. Thor only wanted to help him, but what would he think if he knew his younger brother had been abused in such a dishonorable manner? The thought of Thor being ashamed of him crippled him with anxiety and his eyes began to burn and spill tears. He swiped at them angrily, feeling even more wretched and weak.

It wasn't long before Thor began to pound on the door again, but Loki barely heard it. He was so hot and dizzy, the room had begun to spin alarmingly and he had barely made it to the edge of his bed to vomit on the floor beside it. He wanted his clothes off, he was sweating horribly, but as soon as he tried the spell to remove them his head felt as if knives were piercing it. He vomited again and then lay still, gasping weakly. The pounding did seem farther away which was good, it was hurting his head, he only wished the dizziness would end.

Thor kicked Loki's doors open with a roar and they burst apart. Loki did not react as he lay at the edge of the bed. Thor and Eir drew close, noticing his flushed face and the puddle of vomit beside the bed.

"That wasn't there when I left." Thor said, pointing at the bloody vomit.

"Aye, that's broken." Eir said softly as she saw the livid bruise encircling Loki's wrist. "Thor, would you be a dear and fetch your mother for me?" she said after she pushed the blankets off him and saw the dried smears of blood on them. Thor nodded, but seemed confused. "He will be fine." she said, despite the nagging suspicion she'd felt upon seeing the bloody blankets and where they had been lying against him. As soon as he left she began to cut Loki's clothing away with blunt scissors. His torso was covered with bruises, his hips were bruised by what could only be hands. She saw cuts on Loki's skin that could only have been caused by fingernails. And the dried blood streaking down his thighs confirmed her fears. "You poor darling," she sighed. "Who would dare?"

She was cleaning away the last traces of vomit from the floor when Thor and Frigga returned.

"Thor, would you mind waiting outside while I speak to your mother in private?" Eir asked.

"But-" he began hotly only to have Frigga silence him with an upraised hand.

"Please do as she asks, Thor." Thor frowned and turned away, stomping to the doors to express his anger. Eir cleared her throat nervously.

"My lady, I'm not sure how to say this-"

"Then just say it, dear." Frigga said softly, taking her hand. Eir wiped her eyes quickly and hung her head.

"He was raped." she said in a soft whisper. "He has bruises on his wrists and back of his neck. His right wrist is broken. He has three cracked ribs-" Frigga sobbed and Eri found she could not continue.

"Is there more?" she said when she was able to speak again.

"Yes, my lady." Eir whispered.

"We must not tell Thor or Odin."

"I agree, my lady, which is why I've not allowed Thor to see his injuries. Before I even cut his clothing away I suspected what had befallen him." Frigga squeezed her hand tight.

"Thank you."

"Also I will need your help, my lady, treating him. I didn't dare call anyone else."

"I am grateful to you, my dear."

Frigga told Thor a false tale of Loki falling off a cliff. She was never more glad she had yet to teach him to shift into a bird and fly. She hoped he hadn't already discovered it for himself, and if he did, she hoped he'd kept it to himself. He could shift from place to place, but only if he could see where he was going. He was still nervous about attempting to go somewhere he could not see. She didn't even know if Thor was aware of any of that, but Odin was. She could only pray neither of his ravens had seen the truth.

"He couldn't see the bottom of the ravine in the dark and misjudged the depth when he attempted to us his seidr to get to the bottom safely." she said. "And we are taking care of him, but until then, I need you to go and let us concentrate. When your brother is feeling better, I will let you know, and you may visit him then."

Night had fallen when Frigga and Eir had finally finished treating Loki's wounds. Frigga sat beside him, his pale hand clasped in her own. Just cleaning all the blood from his skin and hair had taken Eir and Frigga an hour. They had used every bit of healing magic they knew to knit his bones, heal his bruises, and calm his feverish skin. He looked much better. His bruises had faded significantly. His wrist still looked like one large bruise, but the vivid blue and purple had faded to pale yellow and brown. He sighed deeply and his eyes opened and blinked slowly. She squeezed his hand and he turned his head and stared at her for a moment as if he didn't know her. She offered him a radiant smile.

"How are you feeling my darling?" she asked. He smiled faintly, but then his expression immediately grew troubled. "Loki, I do not want you to worry. I told Thor you fell, and he will tell your father the same. But you must tell me who has done this to you." she stopped, her heart in her throat when he hid his face with trembling hands and began to weep. "Oh, my son," Frigga sobbed and sat on his bed beside him, gently coming his hair with her fingers, mindful of all the bloody cuts that she'd washed and healed along his scalp. "I am so sorry this has happened to you. Few things in life can be as devastating. That is why you must tell me who has done this evil thing to you. I'll have their hearts for this-"

"I can't mother- I couldn't see them!" his breath hitched and he continued quietly. "They hit my head so that I couldn't see anything but a dark blur." he felt wretched. He would love to see them hang for this, but his memory was only a riot of pain and fear. No faces haunted him, only hands that held him down and hurt him.

Frigga felt her heart clench in intolerable pain. Her brilliant, beautiful son would never be the same after this, she knew too well the aftermath of violent rape. She had seen and felt it before. Only in her darkest nightmares had she ever imagined such a thing befalling one of her beloved sons. And Loki was by far the more sensitive of the two. It was always more difficult to bear for someone who was so easily wounded to begin with. Loki always took insults- even spoken in jest- to the heart. He was unable to hide his hurt, it shone in his emerald eyes. And more often than not the hurt turned quickly to anger. She held him close as he wept, and tried to soothe him.

"Do not blame yourself, my darling. It is a terrible thing that most will do anything to forget. I feared from the injuries you sustained that there would be more trauma than was visible to the eye." she felt him flinch. "But you will be completely healed soon." she felt him relax the slightest bit and sniffle.

"Mother, you must teach me to take on animal form." Loki said softly. "No one will know me then-"

"Did they know you?" she asked, squeezing his hand gently. He shivered in her arms.

"They knew that I am a Prince, yes." he murmured.

"I was only waiting for you to ask. I should not have waited. It will be safer for you to be able to become a tiny mouse and hide, or fly away with a flock of birds, or tear your enemies apart with the fangs and claws of a wolf."

"Yes." Loki said with a grim smile. The smile faded quickly and he shuddered again. They were quiet for a long time.

"Darling I want you to eat something and rest. Would you do that for me?" He nodded after a moments hesitation. "Then I'll just be a moment." as soon as she was gone he shivered and pulled the blankets over himself. He felt childish and weak, hiding in his bed. But the horrible fear that descended upon him the moment his mother walked away was not so horrible in his soft, warm bed. He knew it was foolish, but it didn't change the fact that his trembling body was not shaking so violently. And he was exhausted. And his body still hurt, his head still ached. There was no reason he shouldn't be in bed.

But he still felt ashamed. He had been terrorized and brutalized simply because he hadn't been strong enough to fight back.

Loki did not leave his room for a month. His pain dulled quickly to a soreness that prevaded his whole body. The fits of panic that would seize him, however, were becoming crippling. He refused to see anyone but Frigga. The thought of seeing Thor filled him with terrible anxiety. He felt certain Thor would instantly see something in Loki's eyes that would reveal all. He dreaded the thought of Thor mocking him as a weakling for falling prey to anyone. He knew without a doubt that no one would attack Thor in such a way and succeed in their vile task, let alone live to walk away after the terrible deed was done. Whenever he dwelled upon it too long the anger and shame he felt swiftly brought tears to his eyes.

Thoughts of Odin's reaction to news of Loki's attack and subsequent trauma turned him into terrified ball of nerves that shuddered under a pile of blankets. The look of disgust he imagined on Odin's face tore his heart out.

He had terrible nightmares each night and the vile assault would replay and terror would choke him. And he would wake- sometimes screaming- and try not to cry, but as he shivered under his blankets he always would.

He tried not to sleep when he could no longer stand the dreams. After a week of staring sightlessly out of his windows, after a week of not speaking a word to anyone that had Frigga wringing her hands anxiously, he'd nearly come apart at the seams. He'd been reading- He devoured the books Frigga brought him on shape shifting. And his eyes were barely open. He'd spilled wine on one of the books and stared at it for a moment in dismay before his face crumpled in misery and tears leaked from his closed eyes. He snarled in rage and threw the bottle of wine at the fireplace where it smashed against the mantle. He picked the table up and threw it into the fire. He grabbed vases, glasses, plates and flung them into the flames. He grabbed any furniture he could throw and heaved it all into the fire. He stopped and stood there panting, watching it all blacken and burn. He shuffled to his bed, scrubbing the tears from his cheeks, his mouth twisted in a scowl. He lay down on his bed, pulled the blankets over his head, and didn't emerge for two days.

Some days he felt almost normal and plotted his revenge. He wouldn't just be stronger as a wolf, but he would hear them coming long before they heard him, he'd smell their vile stench, and then he would tear them apart. He would find them himself. He just had to master the art before he could be certain of his success. And he was not going to seek them out until he knew he would not fall prey to them again. He knew in his soul that he could not endure another horrific assault like that. He would fall on his sword first.

Some days the thought of leaving his bed made him feel physically ill, food tasted like ashes in his mouth, and the smallest things would have him fighting to keep tears from falling. His emotions were completely out of control. The thought of his father of brother seeing him in such a state only intensified his panic.

Several times Frigga had found him huddled under his blankets, gasping and shaking like a fish on land. Sometimes he would sob brokenly as she held him, sometimes he would tense up and refuse to speak. Frigga sang softly to him whenever he was in a state of utter panic, an old spell her grandmother had taught her long ago, and in moments his eyes grew glassy and dull and his breathing slowed. Each time she heard his soft snoring after her spell was done she would weep with relief. Sometimes he would cry even when he knew it was her and plead for her to leave. Those times hurt her the most, he knew, but he could not stop the primal fear he felt when he'd failed to notice someone's approach and they put their hands on him.

But he was getting better.

He found he wanted to see Thor, missed him even. After a month of isolation had passed he found himself waking from a particularly horrible nightmare- one in which his tormentors had assaulted him in his own room and performed even more vulgar acts upon him- and he'd wished for nothing more than to see his brother.

As if he'd been summoned by his thoughts, he heard a familiar tap on his door. He peeked out from under his mound of blankets.

"Thor?" he called out in a voice that shook despite all his efforts. The doors opened just a bit. Thor peeked in.

"Loki." Thor said. "You're awake?"

"Yes." Loki said, swallowing with difficulty.

"I thought I heard screaming. I keep hearing screams at night."

"Yes." Loki said, his voice hoarse.

"May I come in?" Thor asked, his voice almost timid.

"Yes." Loki said, feeling some of the tension drain away as his brother entered the room. Thor sat on the edge of Loki's bed.

"Are you feeling better?" Thor asked, his expression hopeful.

"My injuries have healed." Loki frowned when his brother's smile faded. It wasn't the answer he'd wanted to hear. Loki had nothing to say that Thor truly wanted to hear.

"Winter Finding is soon." Thor began, Loki sighed deeply.

"I am not feeling very festive." Thor nodded, a sad smile on his face.

"I will bring you stuffed dates and mushroom soup and your favorite desserts then, you grow too thin, brother." Loki smiled and nodded. "I wish you would come out of your room, though, I miss seeing you each day." Loki sighed again. He would make no promises, and Thor didn't seem to mind. Loki lay back against his pillows with a sigh. "Call me if you need me brother. You are still suffering, but I am not entirely certain why. I only wish to help." Loki nodded, but he could no longer look into his brother's pale blue eyes.

The next time he awoke screaming Thor was already holding him in his arms, rocking him gently.

"It's over Loki." Thor's voice was unsteady. Loki's shrieks dissolved into helpless sobs as Thor held him tight. "It's over. Please don't." Loki shivered violently. He felt Thor gently rub his back. "Don't cry." his voice was an urgent whisper, and he swallowed hard and released a shuddering breath.

He was able to relax after awhile and drift to sleep. Thor thanked the Norns as soon as he heard his brother's light snore. He lay Loki back against his pillows and brushed away the tears that stil clung to his ivory skin.

He was sure Frigga's story of what had befallen Loki was not entirely true. Loki's screams each night were more than enough to let him know something much worse than a fall had occured. He'd never seen Loki so unhinged. He would discover the truth of the matter somehow. And if his first assumptions had been correct- that Loki had been attacked- then he would find those responsible and kill them. He would show no mercy of any kind, for it seemed his brother had received none. He just knew the story of the fall was untrue. He only needed proof. He didn't dare question Loki. He was very nearly shattered. He needed nothing but safety and comfort, and perhaps a bit more food. He didn't need to be badgered with questions.

Thor began to visit Loki every day around his usual lunch time bearing trays of food. He always brought an excess of things he knew Loki craved. The bemused smiles Loki gave him each day as Thor offered yet another morsel to tempt him warmed his heart. It was always pleasant to see Loki smile in a way that didn't spell trouble.

Loki found that he could not deny his brother's heartfelt attempts to cheer him up and did his best to eat the things Thor had brought him. It surprised him that Thor knew so many of his favorites. But then, he'd always been amused by Loki's pickiness when it came to food. Thor ate virtually anything he was offered. It was rare to find a food he refused to eat.

"Look, Loki: Pepparkakor." he offered Loki a fat, sugar-coated cookie. Loki accepted with a small smile.

When he first successfully shifted into a wolf he could only maintain it for a few seconds, but he was relentless and worked himself into exhaustion. When he awoke one day to find Frigga hovering over him and gently slapping his pale face he had been shifting between forms since dawn the previous day, he'd been too focused to stop for food or rest. And he'd apparently then collapsed the the middle of his sitting room some time before dusk. He'd been too exhausted to argue when she forced him to his bed and he slept until mid-afternoon the next day.

When he was able to stay in wolf form for hours at a time he finally felt ready to leave his room. Nearly two months had passed since the day he'd been brutalized and he was more than wary when he stepped out of his rooms. The sky was a fiery orange and the sun was a lovely red orb that sank toward the horizon. His chest felt tight, he breathed slowly. His body was completely healed, but he was still anxious as his eyes roamed the empty hallway. He had just begun learning invisibility, but was able to use it with ease when he spotted some chamber maids about to cross his path. He made his way out into the gardens without spotting another soul. The air was cool and the leaves on the trees were just beginning to change color. As soon as he was outside the garden walls he shifted in a large wolf with black fur and emerald green eyes. The forest lay before him and he easily found the stream and shortly after, his torn clothing. It had rained very little during the past month and he easily smelled his blood and terror on the soft fabric. And he smelled the beasts who had preyed upon him.

The wolf scented the air and then a plaintive whine escaped it's throat. It's gaze whipped between the castle and the forest in indecision. Then with a rabid snarl it bolted into the forest.

Loki stood outside of a crumbling hunter's cottage. He'd easily found their trail as a wolf and shifted to his natural form to conserve energy.

"I'd like to give that little bastard another go." A familiar, hated voice chuckled. "Those red- heads are feisty!"

"Indeed." replied a voice he had not heard speak, but the sigh he heard the man release sent chills up his spine. "But his face was not one I minded forcing away."

"Aye!" the other laughed. "Tis a shame we'll not see the handsom prince again! Yet I doubt he'll ever tarry in these woods." They both laughed and Loki grit his teeth.

"He was soft and fine, 'tis true."

"And those pretty green eyes!"

Before he realized what had happened they were on their feet and heading to the door, he'd made some noise and drawn their attention. He tried to calm his racing heart.

"You heard what I heard?"

"A voice?"

"Something like a cat being strangled." Loki felt his cheeks burn in anger and embarrassment. He let them come away from the house, then smiled as they walked past him, he hadn't even needed to be invisible. Then he was between them and the house.

"You're my prey, now." he said and shifted at once, doubling his size until he was as large as a war horse. A guttural snarl ripped from his throat and the men froze and turned to face him, eyes wide with terror.

Before they had a chance to draw their swords he leapt upon them. He decapitated the man who had violated him first with one bite and disemboweled the other with his claws. The feind's screams rent the air as Loki shook him like a rag doll.

It was over too quickly. But Loki continued to toss their corpses about, snapping off limbs and tearing open their chests. His victorious howl shattered the night air and every scurrying nocturnal creature froze in terror at the sound.

Thor heard a wolf howling in the darkness and eagerly leapt out of bed. It sounded very close, and when he heard no other wolves answering it, he knew it was alone. He hurried through the halls and out into the gardens and climbed his favorite tall tree, hoping to spot the creature.

To his delight it came right out of the woods and was headed staright for the gardens. Then his delight turned to dismay. He'd not a single weapon on him! What if the wolf tried to get in and eat some poor servants?

But his dilemma was abruptly solved when he saw the wolf drop something from its mouth and shift into the shape of a man. He watched the man bend down and pick up what the wolf had dropped and continue forward. Thor clambered down the tree and hid in the bushes. He heard a click and the southwest gate sprang open. He saw a familiar form and quickly stood.

"Loki?" Thor said, startled. His brother flinched in surprise and spun quickly to face him. "What has happened?" Thor gasped.

Loki was covered with blood. His face and hands were positively dripping with gore and when he saw what Loki clutched in his hands he felt his whole body grow cold. "What have you done?"

"I've gotten revenge, dear brother." he said with a smile that turned Thor's stomach.

"By Valhalla, for what? On whom? And what need have you for such grisly trophies?"

"These?" Loki's grin was manic and he held up a heart in either hand. "These are gifts." he turned away but before he could take another step, Thro gripped his shoulder. The animalistic growl that tore from Loki's throat startled Thor and he let his brother go. He stared at Loki's face, twisted in rage.

"Don't. Touch me." he hissed and stalked away.

Frigga spotted Loki in the halls and almost shrieked at the blood covering him. She hurried to his side.

"Mother. Be calm. This is not my blood." she breathed a sigh of relief.

"By the Norns, Loki-" she began but he cut her off,

"I've a gift for you, mother." he held the lacerated hearts in his hands, presenting them to her.

"Come with me." she said, examining her gifts a moment before turning away.

"I have a gift for you as well, my darling." Frigga said. She led him to her secret room. A room he'd been to before, and each time he learned something astounding. She allowed no one else in this room. And each time she brought him to it he felt immensely proud. She gathered a few things and beckoned him to follow.

They followed a worn path out of the castle grounds until it intersected another. The moon was waning, but still nearly full, and allowed them to see easily. Frigga stopped at the center of the crossroads.

"Help me dig." she said and got on her knees and bgean to tear at the dirt with her nails. He did as she asked and soon they had a narrow hole that was just over a foot deep. She took the hearts and skewered them each with three long nails. She put them in the hole and waved her hands gently and the nails began to glow.

"Valhalla denies you, Hel rejects you, the void casts you out. Never to rest, never to be reborn, never to join the eternal. Your legacy is lost, your legacy is pain, your legacy is shadow." The nails began to grow brighter, Loki squinted. "Your fate is unending, you fate I am commanding, your fate is severed. I call upon Urd, Verthandi, and Skald, to cut your ties and bury them here. To shatter your souls and bury them here. To find you, to bind you, to end you here." Loki heard soft moans upon the wind, faint screams that echoed through the forest. "This is my petition, and so it shall be." She drove three even longer nails through each heart and the soft cries became loud wails. She handed Loki six nails that looked to be nearly a foot in length and he drove three through each heart until both were studded with nine nails of three different lengths.

She began to push dirt into the hole and Loki did likewise. When it was filled Frigga stomped on it three times and spit on it three times, and beckoned Loki to do the same. When they were finished there was a keening wail that frightened every bird awake for a mile around and set them to flight.

Frigga smiled coldly.

"It is done. Their souls will never return to life, they will not find any respite in death, they will be nothing forevermore."

"Thank you, mother." she took his hand in hers as they walked back home.

"Of course my darling. I love you." Loki smiled, the feeling of fire burning his veins had dulled to a warm glow. "Now, for your gift."

"Is this not enough?" Loki asked with a smile shining out of his blood-covered face. She shook her head and presented him with a magnificent dagger with emeralds decorating the hilt and a wicked, curved blade.

"Thank you, Mother." He smiled at the beautiful gift.

The End

I was thinking of writing a second part to this because Loki is still going to have issues for years to come after this. But I am not sure yet. Please let me know what you think!


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